Second Chances
by Tainted Wicked
Summary: Sirius and James have rejoined the world of the living, but a second chance at life and love may not be enough to satisfy Sirius. WARNING: MPreg, Sirius/James and Remus/Snape slash, no explicit content, mention of past James/Lily. Complete.


Sirius yawned and tossed aside the book.

He hoped Remus would come back soon, because the pile of books in front of him wasn't shrinking at all. He didn't have the patience for this sort of work.

He looked at the clock, and groaned when he saw he still had several hours of dull reading ahead of him.

It was either that or help Sprout look after the first years, and if there was anything Sirius thought himself less suited for, it was looking after small fry. Besides, the last time he'd agreed to supervise a detention, one of those daft brats had spilled ink on his new silk shirt.

His stomach rumbled, and he scowled over his shoulder at the library doors. What was taking Remus so long?

Probably stopped to swap slobber with Snape, Sirius thought viciously. Bloody git, putting his dirty Slytherin hands where they didn't belong. And damn Remus for not listening to his friends!

Sirius pushed his chair back and propped his feet up on the edge of the table. Pince wasn't around to yell at him, after all, and there weren't any students in the library he could set a bad example for.

Not that he ever worried about such a thing.

Maybe he'd work on something else for a while, just to break the monotony. Hadn't James asked him to look up some security charms?

Sirius found a few books -- not too thick -- on the Charms shelf of the Restricted Section, and took out a fresh roll of parchment so he could copy out anything he found.

Most of the spells he found were mundane. Any well-trained wizard could cast them, and any well-trained wizard could break them. That was no good. Not for their purposes, anyway. What they needed was obscure spells that no one would know the counter-spell to off the top of their head. A house warded with enough of them could keep foes out long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

James, not being up for more strenuous work, had taken on the task of testing the spells others found in the course of their research. The Order didn't have the resources to assign an active member to this task full time, and as James had pointed out, he wasn't much good for anything else anyway.

Sirius sighed a little when he thought of James, who should be putting all his efforts into getting well, instead of wasting his energy casting difficult spells. If the Order didn't need all the help it could get, and so desperately now that the war was in full swing, Sirius would have put his foot down and insisted James get his rest.

He worked for another hour, looking up occasionally when he heard footsteps or voices in the corridor outside the library. Remus still didn't come in, and Sirius seethed inside, now certain that Remus had made an unscheduled stop in the dungeons, instead of coming right back with the new batch of books Kingsley had sent over. Surely it didn't take so long to shrink a few crates and float them up a few flights of stairs.

The clock's hands seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. Sirius flipped open another book of obscure charms, forcing himself to concentrate. Merlin, was he bored...

Suddenly, he sat bolt upright, a particularly out-of-place illustration popping out at him from the text.

Now this was something _interesting_.

* * *

Remus came in at half past midnight.

Limped in, was a more accurate description. Robes tattered. Holding a bloody handkerchief to his temple.

Sirius was out of his chair so quick it fell over and skidded across the floor. "What in hell happened?"

Remus accepted his help and collapsed into the armchair Sirius pushed toward him. "Got there just as a couple of Death Eaters Apparated in. Lucky, really. No way Kingsley and Tonks would have held them off on their own."

"You're bleeding! Why aren't you in the infirmary?"

Remus waved him off. "I'm fine. The others are worse. Severus has enough on his hands. You know I heal quickly. It's just a scratch."

Sirius examined the wound suspiciously, but Remus was right, it could wait. "Why didn't you call for reinforcements? I was here. Could have made it over in five minutes flat. Two, even."

Remus smiled, shook his head, and winced at the pain that apparently caused. "Floo network was knocked out. Had to Apparate to Hogsmeade and walk from there. Carried Tonks."

"Fuck. Is she all right?"

"Stunned, I think. Probably nothing worse. Hit her head as she fell."

"Kingsley?"

"A bit disoriented. Don't know what hit him."

"What's wrong with your leg?"

Remus reached down to rub his calf. "Pulled a muscle, from the feel of it. Happened when I Apparated. Landed wrong, what with Tonks over my shoulder. She's heavy, for such a skinny thing."

Sirius sat back on his heels, a slow sigh of relief finally escaping his chest. "You're sure you're all right, then?"

"I'm fine, Sirius. Nothing a little rest won't help."

Sirius stood up. "I'm taking you back to your room." Quickly, he swept his papers off the table, stuffing them carelessly into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Ready?"

Remus attempted to stand up.

"Up you go," Sirius said, lifting Remus into his arms. "No way you're walking another step."

"Sirius!" Remus scolded, batting at his chest. "The macho act doesn't become you." But after a moment he put his arms around Sirius' neck.

Sirius smirked, thinking ugly thoughts about Snape and how Remus' standards were falling, but he didn't say a word, and felt rather proud of his own restraint.

A few minutes later he got Remus into bed. Ignoring Remus' exasperated protests, he brought water, extra pillows and blankets, and the summons crystal.

"Ring me if you need anything."

Remus agreed, though Sirius was pretty sure it was only to get rid of him.

He didn't realize how emotionally drained he was until he was pulling the door shut and his sweaty, shaking hand slipped off the doorknob. Shutting his eyes and leaning heavily against the door, he forcefully brought himself under control.

Remus was fine. Remus could take care of himself, if anyone could. He would check on Tonks and Kingsley in the morning. No sense going to the infirmary this late.

Feeling only slightly less shaky, he started down the corridor towards the quarters he shared with James.

When he came in, the room was dark. He stubbed his toe on a stack of books. "Fuck."

"Sirius?" There was some shuffling, and a lamp came on at the far end of the room. He saw James' sleep-bleary eyes straining to focus on him. "That you?"

"Just me," Sirius said. "Sorry I woke you."

James covered his mouth, yawning. "What time is it?"

"Late." Sirius stripped off his shirt, noticing even in the dim light that there was a large blood stain where Remus' head had rested against his shoulder. "Go back to sleep, James."

"Everything all right?"

Sirius hesitated, knowing James would insist on being told everything, and might even try to get out of bed. "Everything's fine now. Nothing that can't wait until morning."

James scooted back on the bed, making room for him, and Sirius crawled in, taking the warm spot where James' body had been. He sighed heavily.

"You're sure everything's all right?" James asked, frowning slightly.

Sirius leaned over and kissed him lightly. "Everything's fine. Good night, James."

"Good night."

James settled comfortably into the crook of Sirius' arm, and in a few minutes he was asleep.

Sirius reached over to turn down the lamp. He lay in the dark, unable to close his eyes, and listened to his lover's steady breathing.

* * *

"You have a bit of explaining to do," James said as Sirius opened his eyes. He was sitting up, the morning paper propped on his knees.

Sirius groaned and buried his face in the pillow.

James prodded him in the ribs. "Get up. There's no time for this."

Sirius pulled himself up into a kneeling position, facing James. "Who told you?"

"Kingsley came by."

"He's all right?"

James nodded. "He's heading back to headquarters."

"There wasn't anything either of us could have done last night," Sirius said, catching the look James threw him. "I didn't think it would do any good --"

"You still should have told me."

Sirius nodded slowly. "You're right. I'm sorry."

James didn't look impressed. "Don't do it again. I feel useless enough as it is, without being held in the dark. I don't need to be protected, Sirius."

Sirius nodded again, holding back his protest. "I should go check on Tonks and Remus. Have you had breakfast yet?"

"House-elf brought it a while back. I left yours on the table, but it's cold now, so you best get something in the kitchens."

Sirius got out of bed and struggled into some clean clothes. He poked at the toast and eggs on the tray. Cold, just as James said.

"Anything interesting in the paper?"

James shrugged. "Just what we already know. They seem to be a few days behind. Narcissa's death is front page news."

Sirius frowned.

"Are you all right?" James asked, looking up.

"Of course. Listen, I should go. I'll try to get off early so we can have lunch together. I miss you. We hardly see each other anymore."

James frowned, looking around at the stacks of books that took up almost every available surface. "Think you can stop by the library? I'm done with a lot of these."

"Of course," Sirius said, gathering the books James indicated. "Did you get much work done yesterday?"

"A bit."

"That reminds me," Sirius said, setting the books down again and looking around to see where he had put the bag containing his notes. He found it on the floor and brought it to James, emptying the contents onto the bedspread. "I found a few more spells you can look at. You'll have to sort through this. They're mixed in with my own notes. Anything in blue ink is yours."

James picked up a piece of parchment and glanced it over. "Good. I wasn't having much luck with what I had here."

Sirius picked up the books and the empty bag, and turned to go. "Don't work too hard."

James nodded, his eyes following Sirius to the door. "Don't forget your cloak. Chilly out this morning."

"Thanks," Sirius said, taking his cloak from its peg.

He opened the door, then hesitated, looking back at James.

James was reading again, his head bowed and his hair hanging over his face.

He was beautiful. Even with the gray that had appeared in his black hair. Even with the lines on his face. Somehow -- Sirius didn't know how; that's what he and Remus were researching, after all -- James had aged in death, returning from beyond no younger than his friends, who had lived their full lives and had earned those signs of years and hardship.

He was too thin. The same six months at Hogwarts had done Sirius a world of good, but James remained looking gaunt and weak.

He was getting stronger, though. His muscles were starting to work properly again. His legs could support his weight now, at least for short periods.

"Going?" James asked, looking up and frowning when he saw Sirius still there.

Sirius shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts. "Yes. You know what? I'll work through lunch. Turn in early tonight. What do you think?"

James smiled, his eyes lighting up. "I think that would be wonderful."

* * *

It was two weeks before Tonks was able to leave Hogwarts, and by then Sirius was more than a little tired of her. She meant well, he knew, but long hours of research were bad enough without being constantly interrupted.

Remus had recovered completely, but he had a new mission, and Sirius was left to forge ahead alone.

Sometimes he wanted to give up. Harry could be right -- what did it matter how he and James got here? They were here, they were alive, their magic wasn't gone as first feared...

But he continued searching. Somewhere, in some forgotten old book, there had to be a better explanation of the Veil. If there was any chance that someone else -- someone not on their side -- could use that knowledge against them, they had to be prepared. This was life and death stuff. You didn't just ignore the kind of power that could bring back two dead wizards; one of them dead almost two decades. You didn't just turn your back and leave it in the unprotected ruins of the Ministry building, hoping no one else knew more than you did.

James was better. Even Remus agreed with Sirius on that, though he still tried to get James to let Snape examine him, apparently convinced Snape knew better than Pomfrey. James always refused, and Sirius, though in his rational mind he knew he shouldn't be, was secretly glad. He needed at least one person who was on his side; who didn't see Remus' relationship with Snape as something natural and matter-of-fact. Whatever had happened to Remus during the months Sirius had been gone, throwing himself into Snape's bed had been the outcome. Sirius couldn't shake the feeling that it was partly his fault.

James had advised him to stay out of it, and Sirius did, for the most part.

He loved James.

Now that, he thought, was something anyone could understand. He and James belonged together.

Some days were better than others, of course. There were times when even James' embrace didn't warm him fully. He couldn't shake the feeling that his happiness could end in as few seconds as it had taken to end his life the first time. Other times, he would wake up feeling as if he had sprouted wings overnight, and could soar above the clouds with James by his side.

He usually knew what sort of day it was going to be as soon as he opened his eyes.

He rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up on one elbow.

James was still sleeping, and Sirius wasn't going to wake him up. James worked too hard and too many hours as it was.

So he watched him. That was such a tremendous, precious gift, to be able to look down at the face of the man he loved, and know that they would could have the rest of their lives to spend together.

If this damn war ever ended. Even on the best days, Sirius could never convince himself that it truly would.

James stirred slightly, and Sirius lowered his head back to his pillow, shutting his eyes and pretending to still be asleep. James didn't need to wake up this early.

Waiting until James was still again, he slipped out of bed, took his clothes off the back of a chair where he'd left them, and left their quarters.

He dressed in the corridor, ignoring odd looks from the early-rising Ravenclaws who passed him on their way to the Great Hall. He was already planning how he would spend the morning, and thinking that maybe he would take the rest of the day off if he got through the latest stack of tomes more quickly than usual.

He ignored the fussing house-elves and their offer of a full Hogwarts breakfast, took a heaping plate of sandwiches and biscuits, and headed up to the library.

The pile of books, which he knew hadn't changed since he had left the previous night, somehow seemed twice as tall. At the rate he was going, he wouldn't finish until after midnight again.

Harry and his friends proved a distraction that day, as well.

Sirius was always ready to sympathize with students wronged by Snape, but that afternoon as he listened to Harry's long list of complaints, he wished his godson would just bugger off.

That was terrible of him. Harry had it so hard, the least the people in his life could do was listen and commiserate when he needed to vent.

But all Sirius wanted was to get back to James.

Maybe it wasn't healthy to be so attached to someone. That's what Snape had told him once in that sneering, condescending tone of his. But what did Snape know? Maybe it was all right for him to bed someone but not give a hoot if that person was struck down dead the next day, but other people's feelings ran a bit deeper than that.

Spending time with James was all Sirius really cared about these days. He almost missed those weeks when they were lying in their private infirmary room, hardly strong enough to speak. Pomfrey had been busy with other patients, and Harry and his friends had classes, leaving them almost all morning and afternoon to spend alone together. Maybe Sirius didn't wish to be back in bed, helpless and almost too ill to keep his eyes open most of the time, but he would give his wand arm to spend that much time alone with James again.

He sighed, trying to return to his reading. Harry had finally gone -- thank Merlin for curfew -- and the library was quiet again, but Sirius felt irritable and listless.

Endless research and trying to sort out the sordid social lives of adolescents; that was what his life had been reduced to.

If it wasn't for James, he thought would have felt as useless as he had during his internment in Grimmauld Place.

* * *

"Have a minute, Sirius?"

Sirius gladly put aside the vapid book he had been looking at. "What is it, Remus?"

Remus frowned at the mess on the table before sitting down. "Are you making any progress?"

"It depends on what you call progress," Sirius said, smirking. "I just read an entire book, thinking it was on necromancy, and then it turns out it's the journal of some fifteenth century bint trying to resurrect her cat!"

"Did she succeed?" Remus asked solemnly. Only the slight quirk of his eyebrow betrayed his amusement.

"No."

"Too bad," Remus said, shrugging, "but perhaps just as well. Cats don't have souls. It wouldn't help our situation if she had managed reanimation."

"That's just it, Remus. Most attempts at resurrection seem to be directed at animals, not humans. Maybe people are afraid to try it on a human. They try it on an animal first, and it doesn't work, and they give up. I'm not finding any mention of a successful human resurrection because apparently no one's had the grit to go the distance!"

"Mentions of the Veil?" Remus inquired, turning over a particularly moldy and worn looking tome, which had a fairly accurate depiction of the portal etched on its primitive leather binding.

"That one's a dud. Some bloke did some research in the ninth century, but his logic was inherently flawed. Managed to fry two of his mates though."

"Hrmph. Not very helpful, you're right."

Sirius flipped through his record book and frowned at the last page he had written. "You know, I'm beginning to think what happened to James and me wasn't related to the Veil at all."

Remus' brow furrowed. "How so?"

"In all the past research on the Veil, no one's ever found it has any properties beyond leading to a void between the world of the living and the world of the dead. It doesn't do anything, Remus. I think we're looking for something that isn't there."

Remus continued to frown.

"Look. It made sense at first. We were found in the Department of Mysteries, I had gone through the Veil, I'm the only one who remembers being in that in-between place... it all pointed to the Veil being involved. But James didn't die by falling through the Veil, did he? That's why we assumed it could be used to resurrect, not just move between two states of existence. But I think we were wrong in that assumption."

"Hmm. I don't... How did James get into the Department of Mysteries, then? If something else resurrected you, then why not bring him back where he fell -- Godric's Hollow?"

"He had to come through the Veil. That's the only way to get from the world of the dead to the world of the living."

"Then it was the Veil," Remus said, looking even more confused.

"No," Sirius said, a little exasperated. It was exactly this circular thinking that he thought had saddled him with many months of possibly entirely worthless research. "The Veil is just a hole leading from one place to another. It doesn't do anything at all! It's just there, and something else has to act on it to make it work. Just like you can't simply walk through it from our side." He narrowed his eyes at Remus. "You tried. You should know."

Remus cringed slightly and averted his eyes.

"A spell knocked me through the Veil. Something similar had to happen to get me back, but it wasn't the Veil itself."

"Someone chucked a spell at you in the afterlife?" Remus asked. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, looking close to laughing. "Well, if it happened to anyone..."

"Witty, Remus," Sirius said disdainfully. "Very witty."

"Sorry. What were you saying?"

Sirius sighed and shrugged. "I don't know what I'm saying, Remus. I just can't help but feel so sure -- completely sure, really -- that we're looking in the wrong place."

Remus patted his arm comfortingly. "If you feel so sure, go with your hunch and look for something else."

"I can't just go off and do my own thing."

"You wouldn't be. You're supposed to be looking for anything with the kind of power over life and death that could bring two dead wizards back into our world. If it isn't the Veil, then go where your research takes you."

Sirius considered for a few moments. Then he sighed again. "Maybe it's the books. The Hogwarts library may be large, but I'm finding the material biased. The Veil didn't originate in Britain. The early research is in a German dialect."

"I can contact Viktor Krum at Durmstrang, and see if we can access their library. I doubt it's very well stocked, but the founders did lean towards the Dark Arts from the beginning, and they were powerful wizards in their own right, so there may be a few useful tomes left over from their personal libraries."

"Sure we can trust him?"

"We don't have to tell him what it's about."

"Do it, then." Sirius looked up as the clock struck midnight. "It's late. Was there something you wanted, aside from checking up on me?"

Remus looked at him, his lips pursed thoughtfully. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. I know it's been slow going, and this --" He indicated the piles of books -- "is not quite your forte..."

"I'm fine, Remus," Sirius said, hoping he sounded reassuring. He didn't need to burden Remus with his increasing discontent.

"You and James both look like you could use a bit of a break. We're all wearing thin, but at least the rest of us can go to a pub and forget our troubles for a while. The two of you are --"

"We're fine," Sirius interrupted. "As soon as James is a little better, we'll put all this aside and get out for a bit. It's a large castle. I'm sure we can find something to amuse ourselves with. Pubs aren't my thing, anyway."

Remus looked closely at him, but after a few moments he nodded. "Do that. Everyone needs a bit of a break now and then."

* * *

"Comfortable? Because I can run get another quilt --"

"Stop fussing. I'm fine," James said, rolling his eyes. "Look, the game's starting. There's Harry! He's off!"

Sirius couldn't help fussing. It was James' first time out of the castle. Bundled up in nearly a dozen blankets, he was sitting in the overstuffed armchair Sirius had dragged to the top of the Quidditch bleachers.

"Oooooh..." James groaned as the Gryffindor Keeper missed the Quaffle, allowing the Ravenclaws to score.

Sirius was barely keeping one eye on the game. He kept looking over at James to make sure he wasn't too cold, too pale, too tired, or in any way uncomfortable.

"Look!" James yelled, grabbing Sirius' arm as all heads turned to the right.

Harry was diving from a height of more than a hundred feet. The Snitch was so close, his outstretched fingers almost touched it as he sped toward the ground.

At the last possible moment, the Snitch veered away, and Harry pulled up seconds before he would have slammed into the ground. The back of his broom raised a cloud of dust, indicating just how close it had been.

"Gods..."

Sirius looked over at James, whose face was sweaty and pale. "James! Are you all right? Should I get Pomfrey?"

James shook his head, smiling weakly and sinking against the back of the chair. "I don't recall Quidditch being so dangerous, that's all."

Sirius let out a shuddering breath of relief. "Harry's incredible, isn't he? I would say he's almost better on a broom than you were."

"I would say he is better," James said proudly, now straining his neck to follow Harry as the boy zoomed past the stands, still hot on the trail of the elusive Snitch.

Sirius watched as Harry darted between the columns. The Ravenclaw Seeker, who was not as agile, was falling farther and farther behind. Silently, he thanked the gods the match wasn't against Slytherin. James didn't need to see just how many close calls Harry could have over the course of one game.

The Snitch managed to elude Harry. Now both Seekers were flying in wide circles overhead, and James seemed to lose interest in following the game's progress.

"Thanks for bringing me," he said, leaning back and breathing deeply. "The fresh air is going to do me some good. I can feel it."

"Not too cold?"

"Nah."

Sirius squeezed James' hand, and was reassured by how warm it was. "Harry was so happy when I told him you were going to be here. I think he's really been waiting to show you what he can do."

James avoided meeting his eyes. "Was he."

"Of course he was! He might be having a bit of a hard time, but you have to see he's trying really hard to accept everything we've laid on him!"

"Maybe it's too much. Sometimes..."

"What?"

"Sometimes he just looks at me... like he wants to ask me something, but doesn't dare. I hate it."

Sirius sniffed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Remus thinks Harry's too young and too inexperienced to make sense of this. He just... can't understand how we can be together when you and Lily..."

James nodded, saving Sirius from having to finish his broken trail of thought. "I don't know what to tell him."

"He can't know what it was like back then. We couldn't have made it together. It was a completely different world."

"The Dark Ages, compared to now. But I don't want to tell him that, and without understand how things were, I'm afraid he wouldn't understand why I married Lily."

"I didn't understand, back then," Sirius said, smiling weakly. "And I lived it. I don't think Harry needs that burden."

"If only he didn't see things as so black and white! If I could just make him see...!"

"You can't, James," Sirius said, shrugging. "He isn't ready. Someday he will understand. Maybe we should just let him be for now. He's accepted rather well that we're together now. When he needs to hear more, he'll ask those questions you think he's keeping back."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, James looking pensive and picking at a loose thread on one of the quilts. Then, Harry sped by, the Ravenclaw Seeker on his tail, and they both turned their attention back to the game.

"Did you see that?!" James yelled, half-rising out of his seat. "He's got it! Harry's got the Snitch!"

His voice was almost lost in the roar of the crowd.

Harry, Snitch in hand, landed in front of the bleachers, grinning and waving to the crowd. He was looking straight up at James and Sirius.

"WAY TO GO HARRY!" Sirius yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth.

* * *

"I knew it was too soon for you to be out!"

James shook his head. "It wasn't that, I don't --" Another bout of retching interrupted whatever he was going to say, and he huddled miserably over the toilet.

"I'm getting Severus," Remus said quietly.

"No!" James struggled to sit up, pushing his sweat-damp hair out of his face. "Don't you dare, Remus!"

"James, maybe..." Sirius began hesitantly.

"No!"

Sirius looked at Remus and shrugged helplessly.

"This isn't a cold," James continued, reaching for a tissue to wipe his mouth. "I probably caught whatever has all those First Years laid up."

"Fred and George Weasley are what has them laid up," Remus said dryly. "Those two should never have been allowed back into Hogwarts."

"You don't think they would...?" Sirius frowned worriedly, looking at James' pale, sweaty face.

"They wouldn't," Remus said. "Which means it's something else, and I really think someone should examine --"

"No," James said, struggling to his feet. "See? It's over. Must have been nothing. I'll see Pomfrey when she gets back. Sirius, help me back to bed, will you?"

Once tucked into bed, James did look a little better, though his face remained nearly as white as the pillowcase.

Sirius fussed over him, helping him take small sips of weak tea, bringing extra pillows, and massaging his feet.

Remus stood off to one side, arms crossed over his chest, and watched silently.

At last, James fell into an exhausted sleep, and Sirius sank onto a footstool, looking drained.

"I really think he should be examined," Remus said. "In his weakened condition even a simple cold could be dangerous."

"He doesn't want to see Snape," Sirius said gruffly. "And I happen to agree with him. Snape doesn't have any actual medical training. Just because he's picked up some skills -- who knows where from? -- doesn't mean anything. Pomfrey will be back soon, and we'll have James looked at as soon as she is."

Remus' lips tightened into a thin line, but he nodded. "Fine. I have to get back to work. Let me know how he is."

Sirius watched him go.

No doubt Remus was annoyed with both of them for not letting Snape come in to examine James, but really, it was a bloody bad idea, as far as Sirius was concerned.

Sirius blamed himself for James' condition. Of course James had caught something the previous day at the Quidditch match. Either he got chilled or someone sitting close by had infected him with something. Children were full of germs. To the one, they had runny noses and sticky hands and crusty eyes. Sirius never should have taken James where he could be exposed like that.

Disregarding the work he had planned to continue that day, Sirius stayed by James' bedside for the rest of the day, fetching him anything he needed and making sure he didn't tire himself out with needless work.

Just after dinner, Remus returned with Pomfrey.

The nurse was in a hurry to return to her many patients, and after a quick scan with her wand dismissed James' nausea as not dangerous.

"Must have been something he ate."

"He hadn't eaten anything!" Sirius protested.

"Nonetheless, there's nothing wrong with him now," Pomfrey said, fishing a small bottle out of her black bag before shutting it with a snap. "If it returns, take two tablespoons of this potion."

Sirius was about to argue, but James put a restraining hand on his arm.

The nurse picked up her bag and left their quarters.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Sirius muttered, sniffing derisively.

"I feel fine now," James said. "You really should try to get some work done, Sirius."

Sirius looked him over carefully, but the color had returned to James' face, and the extra rest appeared to have done him some good. "Are you sure?"

"If I need anything, I'll call a house-elf."

"And you won't try to work?"

James' eyes traveled over the books piled haphazardly over nearly every available surface in the room. Finally he shook his head, sighing. "I won't. I'll just read one of these Quidditch magazines Harry brought over. That should be nice and relaxing."

Sirius looked at the Quidditch magazines suspiciously. The tiny figures zooming around the cover made him slightly dizzy. "All right... but try not to tire yourself."

* * *

"How could you, James?"

James hung his head and hunched his shoulders.

"How long has this been going on?" What Sirius really wanted to know was how James could keep it from him, but somehow he couldn't make himself really tear into James, no matter how angry he was. He threw the bottle into the rubbish bin with the others. "I can't believe you would just... You stupid bastard."

"I only did what the nurse said to," James said defensively. But he wouldn't meet Sirius' eyes.

"I think she would want to know if you find it necessary to chug down four bottles of potion in only three weeks! There must be a dozen doses in every bottle! Just how often did you take it?"

James scowled.

Sirius stared at him for a long time. With neither of them speaking, the room was uncomfortably silent.

Finally, he realized it was up to him to do something about the situation. And there was really only one thing he could do.

"I'm getting Snape," he said quietly.

"No!" James grabbed for Sirius' hand and pulled him back with surprising strength. "I'm fine now. Really! Why do you think I was throwing out a bottle that's still half-full? Look, I'm fine!"

Sirius hesitated. "When was the last time?"

"Four days ago. See? Whatever it was, it's over. I feel great!"

Sirius gave in. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he didn't feel like tangling with Snape either, and James did look well enough... "All right. But if it happens again..."

"Then I'll see Snape," James said. He looked relieved.

"And you'll see Pomfrey as soon as she comes back," Sirius continued, silently cursing the stupidity of having the school nurse do work for the Order on the side.

"Fine. I'll see Pomfrey the second she's back."

"And you won't do any more work."

James' mouth fell open, then snapped shut. His lips thinned in displeasure, but he nodded. "Fine."

"I'll just get all these books out of your way then."

James watched with narrowed eyes as Sirius pushed back several stacks of books until they were well away from the bed. "That really isn't necessary."

"I want you to rest, and that's final," Sirius said firmly. "You've been working too hard. That's why you aren't getting well as fast as we'd like."

James huffed in annoyance, but said nothing.

"There, then," Sirius said, finally satisfied that the area around the bed was clear. "Now maybe you can play a decent game of chess with your son. Isn't Harry coming over straight after classes?"

"If Snape doesn't give him another detention."

"He won't," Sirius said cheerfully. He'd had a lovely little chat with Snape the other day regarding that very thing, and thought they had reached an understanding. But neither James nor Remus needed to know the details. "I'll try to finish early tonight."

"You've already neglected your work enough because of me."

"Don't be ridiculous. What else is more important?"

That brought a small smile to James' lips, and Sirius went away pleased with himself.

If he had any lingering nagging guilty feelings, he pushed them aside. James was fine. In fact he was looking better than he had in weeks. There was no reason to subject him to Snape's none-too-tender mercies if it wasn't a clear emergency. Pomfrey could sort it out just as well in a few days.

* * *

But Pomfrey did not return that week, or the next, or the one after that. Grimmauld Place had been converted into a medical ward for those who could not be moved as far as St. Mungo's. As there were no emergencies at Hogwarts, Pomfrey chose to stay to care for the wounded there.

James, however, was thriving, and Sirius thought nothing more about Pomfrey's absence or James' earlier illness. He decided it had to be all the rest James was getting, and credited himself with having made the right decision.

It came as a shock to him, then, to find out James had been continuing his work on the sly.

"You promised me, James!"

James snatched the book back. "I'm tired of being treated like an invalid. There is nothing wrong with me to prevent me from being useful in some small way, at least."

"I'm not treating you like an invalid! I just want you to get some rest!"

James swung his legs out of bed and stood up. A determined look had come over his face, and he met Sirius' eyes straight on. "Look, Sirius, I appreciate that you're concerned about me, but I'm well now, and I do not intend to be a prisoner in this room any longer."

"You are not a prisoner! Where did you get an idea like that?"

James walked past him to the wardrobe, pulled it open, and removed a set of robes. "Maybe I'm just tired of lying in bed while everyone else is working. There is nothing wrong with me now, and I need to get out there and do something. I've let myself go." He shrugged out of his dressing gown and frowned at his reflection in the full-length mirror. "Look at me." He pinched the flesh on his belly and looked disgusted. "I'm fat."

"You are not..." Sirius started, but his voice trailed off uncertainly despite his intention to dismiss James' ridiculous claim.

James whirled around, eyes narrowed. "Well? Are you going to finish that?"

"You're not fat."

James glared.

"All right, so maybe you need to cut down on the scones a bit, but I hardly think --"

"What I NEED," James interrupted, "is to get some exercise! I need to get out of this room once in a while!" He began to dress, turning his back on Sirius.

Sirius sighed heavily. James seemed determined to go, and perhaps it was best to humor him just this once. Otherwise he was liable to go off on his own, and Sirius couldn't allow that. "All right. We'll take a nice walk in the gardens --"

"I don't think so. I want to see what everyone is working on, and if there's anything I can help with."

"Fine," Sirius ground out. "Just take your warm cloak, all right?"

James accepted the cloak without a word.

A few minutes later they were walking down the empty corridors, Sirius grudgingly pointing out anything he thought was of interest.

James showed no sign of tiring, even after the long walk up to the library.

Sirius finally admitted to himself that he was not as thrilled as he should have been by these signs of James' recovery. What if James insisted on throwing himself into the war effort? It was exactly that kind of attitude that had led to him and Lily being marked for death during the first war, and Sirius was determined to keep James out of the fray as long as possible.

But how likely was that to happen when James' own son was in the middle of things? Of course James would get involved if he could.

Remus was working at one of the tables, surrounded by books. He looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of James and Sirius. "James. What are you doing out of bed?"

James jerked his thumb in Sirius' direction. "My jail-keeper here decided I could go out for a bit of exercise."

"Actually, he gave me no choice," Sirius put in, giving Remus what he hoped was a pointed look.

"I see," Remus said, pulling out a chair. "Well, sit down then. Maybe you can help me make sense of some of this."

Sirius stood back, inexplicably annoyed, and watched as James and Remus bent over a thick tome. It appeared to be something Herbology-related, and Sirius knew almost nothing on the subject, having dropped it after his Fifth year.

"Sirius," James said over his shoulder, not looking up from the book, "if you have nothing to do here, could you go back to our quarters and clear out the books? I finished with them days ago, except for the ones under the bedstand. You can leave those."

Sirius pursed his lips, but just then Remus looked up and met his eyes, raising one eyebrow and giving a quick nod.

"All right," he said reluctantly. "But don't leave the library until I get back. Remus -- watch him."

James muttered something under his breath, and Remus frowned at Sirius disapprovingly.

Sirius stalked out of the library, taking one of the library's wheeled carts with him. He was determined to get the books and get back before James could get into any sort of mischief, or before afternoon classes ended and the library filled with germ-infested children.

The room was a mess. Really, if he hadn't been so busy himself, he would have taken the books away long before. There were stacks against every wall, on the table and even the top of the bureau, books under the bed, books on the chairs by the fireplace, more books perched precariously on the mantle...

Carrying an armload at a time, Sirius began to pile them onto the cart.

Underneath the books on the coffee table, Sirius found James' record books and rolls of parchment covered with notes. Sirius decided to try to organize them before a draft blew them all over the room.

He reached one particular bundle of parchment tied up with a thin ribbon, and recognized his own handwriting, with James' notes in the margins. Curious to see if James had found any of the spells he suggested useful, Sirius leafed through them.

Reaching the end of the stack, he started violently, almost dropping everything.

What was that spell doing there? That wasn't a security charm, that was...

Then he remembered. It was that night, when Remus had come staggering into the library, and Sirius had swept all his work into a bag and then... had given it to James without a second thought.

He sat down heavily on the edge of the table.

At the top of the parchment James had written only one line: Attempted twice. No effect observed. A dud.'

Sirius groaned. James had cast the spell?

What had been amusing when he had come across it in the tome of obscure charms now seemed anything but funny. If James had cast the spell successfully, then there was a chance...

Standing abruptly, Sirius stuffed the piece of parchment into his pocket. He wouldn't panic until he had a chance to think rationally. Just then it was useless to try to reason it out, with his heart hammering in his chest and blood roaring in his ears so that he could hardly think at all.

He stacked the rest of the notes into a neat pile, with the record books on top to keep them in place. Working mechanically, he finished clearing the room and pushed the overflowing cart into the corridor.

Remus and James didn't even look up when he came in, and Sirius headed straight for the Restricted Section.

Hidden behind the cart, he began hunting for the book the spell had come from.

"Sirius? Are you almost finished?" came James' voice.

"Almost!" Sirius called back, now almost frantically pawing through the books.

"Holler if you want some help."

"Not necessary!"

He had it! Quickly, Sirius stuffed the book into the inside pocket of his robes.

It took him a few more minutes to sort through the books on the cart, putting them haphazardly on the shelves. Pince would have a coronary when she saw.

"Finished already?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow as Sirius appeared at the table.

"Yes," Sirius said, managing -- he hoped -- to sound nonchalant.

"Should I consider myself warned to stay out of Madam Pince's way after her nightly inspection?"

"You might want to do that, yes," Sirius said, unable to keep back a smile. Remus always saw through his tricks.

James stood up and began to gather books and notes. "Remus and I managed to get a bit of work done, and I'm taking these books back to look over in more detail." He fixed Sirius with a hard look. "Unless you have a problem with that?"

"No," Sirius said. "No problem. But let me carry them for you."

Rolling his eyes, James relinquished the books. "Remus was just telling me Harry has Quidditch practice this afternoon. I'm thinking I'll go."

Sirius heaved a sigh. The last thing he wanted just then was to watch Quidditch. He wanted to examine that book as soon as possible.

"You don't have to go, Sirius," Remus said. "I'll be there."

"No, I'll go," Sirius said, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. "It's been a while since I've watched Harry practice. Games aren't the same, you know."

He was rewarded by a smile from James, and an approving look from Remus, so he supposed he sounded convincing.

He forced himself to sit through it, cheering when appropriate, but the book seemed to be burning in his pocket, and there were moments when he could hardly contain himself.

Practice ended, and James shrugged away from under Sirius' protective arm to join Harry on the pitch. Sirius was about to follow when Remus grabbed his arm.

"Hold on a minute. I want to speak with you."

Sirius fell back into his seat reluctantly, trailing James with his eyes. "What?"

"Really, I should have said something earlier. You're smothering him."

Sirius stared at him in disbelief. "What would you have me do? Let him run around the castle so he can collapse in some dark corridor and not be found until he's caught his death of cold?"

"I don't think that's very likely. You have to see he's doing quite well now. Keeping him shut in is only going to aggravate him."

"He needs his rest!"

"He seems fine to me. I know it has to be hard for you, after seeing him so ill for so long, but I really do think he's ready to do a bit more than lie in bed all day. He's bored and feeling out of the loop, and frankly I don't blame him at all. James always liked to be in the center of things."

Sirius gritted his teeth. Here was Remus, who hadn't spent so much as a full day with James because he was either away on Order business or doing Merlin only knew what with Snape, telling him what James was feeling!

"Is there some reason you think James shouldn't get out a bit?"

"No," Sirius muttered. "No reason at all."

Remus regarded him for a few moments before speaking again. "You seemed preoccupied today. Anything you want to tell me?"

"Not a thing."

Remus didn't look convinced, but he shrugged. "Fine. If there is anything, you know I'm always ready to listen. Now lets go down, it looks like the team's ready to head back to the castle."

Sirius trailed after him, feeling even worse than before.

He got his moment of peace when James announced he wanted to take a look at Gryffindor Tower.

"I'll just wait here," he said, settling into one of the overstuffed armchairs in the common room. "If I recall right, the dorms are too small for this many people."

James, surrounded by Harry and his friends, waved cheerily and disappeared up the staircase, hardly giving Sirius a second look.

Once alone -- he ignored the few First and Second years as inconsequential -- Sirius pulled out the book and flipped it until he found the spell.

It was as bad as he'd thought.

Maybe worse.

Sirius had always been much amused by stories of men getting pregnant. When he had found the spell, the wording struck him as particularly funny.

Apparently James had not translated the text before casting the spell. If he had, then the very first lines would have told him it was not related to any known security spell or ward.

"Sirius? What are you doing?"

Sirius jumped as though scalded, whipping around to face Remus, who had leaned over his shoulder. Belatedly, he slammed the book shut, but even as he did, he knew Remus had already seen all there was to see.

"Is there a reason you're interested in conception spells?"

"How the hell did you get in here?" Sirius demanded, his mind whirling. As much as he wanted to deny any interest, it seemed useless to try to pull that past Remus.

"I took over McGonagall's old office, remember? There's a door directly to the common room. Now, are you going to answer the question?"

Sirius bit his lip. No words sprang to mind. The silence stretched.

Remus cleared his throat. "I thought James looked rather odd. I didn't want to mention it, since he seemed so touchy today. Sirius, tell me the two of you haven't done something..." He paused, his brow furrowing. "Something rash."

"I..." Sirius' voice broke off in a croak, and he coughed, ducking his head.

Remus continued to stare at him. Sirius could feel those reproachful eyes burning on the back of his neck.

"I think I... may have... done... something..."

He heard Remus draw in a sharp breath. "Something?"

"By accident..."

Remus came around and sat down in the chair opposite from him. "Start at the beginning, Sirius."

Sirius found the whole story pouring out of him. He didn't dare look up for fear of what he might see on Remus' face.

Remus was ominously silent.

"And just this morning he told me he was fat. I hadn't noticed, but it's true. He's gained around the middle."

He fell silent, still staring down at the carpet.

"Well," Remus said slowly, "that doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"Really?" Sirius asked hopefully, looking up.

He wished he hadn't. Judging by Remus' face, he thought exactly the opposite.

Remus sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know. But Sirius, you're just going to have to tell him. If this happened when you think it did, it's still not too late to --"

"Not too late to what?"

Sirius jerked up, abandoning his seat. "Er... James... Remus and I were just..."

"Sirius has something to tell you, James," Remus said, mercilessly ignoring the look Sirius tried to send his way. He motioned toward the door. "I think it would be best if we continued this in my office."

* * *

The room was silent.

Sirius had just finished telling his tale for the second time in less than an hour. He had no idea how James was taking it, because he couldn't bring himself to look at James or even to look in his general direction.

Remus was the first to speak. "I think what we must do now is confirm Sirius' suspicions. James, are you willing to have Severus examine you?"

"Yes."

Nothing else. Just Yes.' Sirius shuddered inside.

"Then I will get him," Remus said.

Sirius desperately wished Remus would stay. Being alone with James right then seemed unthinkable.

But Remus rose and walked to the door, and a moment later he was gone and the door had shut with a sharp click, leaving Sirius and James sitting in silence.

Sirius wanted to say something.

Anything, really.

But what did you say in a situation like this?

"I won't terminate it, you know," James said suddenly.

"N-No?"

"No."

The clock above the door ticked off the passing seconds.

"Tell me again you didn't do it on purpose, Sirius. Not out of some imbecilic attempt to keep me from getting involved in the war."

Sirius shook his head, his hair whipping his cheeks. "I didn't! I wouldn't do that!"

James pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "All right. Say I believe you. What in hell possessed you to copy out that spell?"

"I... thought it was amusing."

"Amusing. I see," James said venomously. "Because we know what you think of men who get knocked up."

Sirius stared at him. "Hold on. No. That's not what I think at all."

"Then why would it be amusing, then?"

Sirius opened his mouth, but found he didn't know what to say in his own defense. "I don't know," he finally said. "But I don't think anything of the sort. I was bored, it was late, I found a spell that struck me as interesting, and I... just..."

"You just'," James repeated, sniffing derisively. "That's the problem with you, isn't it Sirius? You always just' happen to do something that completely --"

Sirius winced, waiting for whatever wound James was about to inflict.

But James seemed to struggle with himself for a long moment, and finally appeared to push down the words that had been on the tip of his tongue. He breathed out, shaking his head. "I realize this isn't entirely your fault. I wasn't paying attention like I should have been. I wanted to get through my work as quickly as possible, and I sacrificed quality for speediness. I should have read and translated the spell before casting it."

"You trusted me."

"Yes, well..."

Another silence stretched between them.

"James, I --"

Sirius didn't get to finish, because the door opened and Remus walked in, followed closely by Snape.

Seeing the barely-concealed mirth on Snape's face, Sirius groaned inwardly.

Beside him, James was rigid and motionless, apparently willing to put up silently with whatever Snape intended to do to him.

That, to Sirius, seemed to say it all.

* * *

"Fourteen weeks," Snape announced after completing his examination. He dropped the vial of violently purple potion into the rubbish bin next to Remus' desk and rolled down his sleeves.

No one else said anything. James was staring straight ahead as though hypnotized. Only his fingers were moving, buttoning up his shirt.

"Well," Remus said quietly, taking Snape by the arm, "I believe you two should be alone. Feel free to stay as long as you need."

With Remus and Snape gone, James appeared to awaken from his stupor. He rose and began gathering up his things.

Sirius followed him like a shadow back to their quarters. James didn't say a word the entire way, or acknowledge that he knew Sirius was there.

The house-elves had brought supper. James poured hot soup into two bowls and sat down at the table. He didn't invite Sirius to join him, but Sirius decided the second bowl was an invitation in itself.

Sirius couldn't recall a more uncomfortable meal. Everything tasted like sawdust.

"I don't know how Harry will take it," James said suddenly.

Sirius gulped his tea, burning his throat and tongue. He stared at James, not understanding.

"This is just going to confuse him more."

"You... really want to have it?"

James looked up, his eyes boring into Sirius'. "We are having it."

Sirius swallowed convulsively. "You aren't strong enough for this, James. If you fall ill again --"

James shook his head and turned back to his tea.

Sirius ran his hand through his hair, trying to control his breathing. He was dangerously close to hyperventilating. "All right. All right. Let me think."

"What is there to think about?"

"I'M GOING TO BE A FATHER AND YOU'RE ASKING WHAT IS THERE TO THINK ABOUT?!"

"Stop yelling."

Sirius, who found himself half out of his chair, fell back limply. His tea cup had fallen on its side, and hot tea was soaking his sleeves, but he hardly noticed.

"Your robes will stain," James said calmly.

Sirius just looked at him.

Then he remembered.

Of course. James had done this before. He'd been in Sirius' exact position when Lily was pregnant. That pregnancy had been nearly as much of a surprise as this one.

With the same maddening calmness, James rose from the table, stacked his dishes on the tray, and headed into the bathroom. The door shut behind him.

Sirius sat motionless, listening to the running water and feeling each drop of hot liquid that dripped off the edge of the table onto his thigh. He was unable to think anything more coherent than that house-elves should be reprimanded for making tea so damn hot.

James came out of the bathroom in his dressing gown, rubbing his hair with a towel. "I'm going to bed, Sirius. I hope you aren't going to mope all night."

"I'm not moping," Sirius said indignantly. "Is that what you think?"

"You're sitting there, glassy-eyed... what am I supposed to think?"

"How about that I need a little time to get used to the idea of you carrying my child, it being my fault, and my whole world crashing around my ears?"

James stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm going to bed."

Sirius watched as James climbed into bed, fluffed his pillow, snuffed out the candle on his bedstand, and turned toward the wall.

So that was that.

James was just going to go to sleep and not say another word to him.

As much as Sirius wanted to fume, he just didn't have the strength for it, and couldn't see any reason to be angry with James, anyway. What he really wanted to do was crawl into bed with James and have the world stop spinning so dizzyingly.

But did James want him there, or was he trying to tell Sirius something by turning his back to him?

He couldn't sit at the table all night, and his soggy robes were growing more than a little uncomfortable. James might not be speaking to him, but neither had he told him to get out. Until he did so, Sirius had as much right to sleep in their bed as James did.

He changed into his pajama bottoms, leaving his robes draped over the back of his chair for the house-elves to find.

He approached the bed slowly, expecting James to turn on him at any moment and demand he take the hint and get out before James hexed him into the next week.

He didn't know if it was a good sign that James didn't move or show any indication of being aware of Sirius presence, even when the bed dipped as Sirius climbed in.

James' body radiated warmth, and Sirius shuffled as close to him as he dared, without actually touching him. He wanted to wrap himself around James, but now that he was closer he could see how stiff the curve of James' shoulders was.

He waved his wand, extinguishing the last of the lights, before sticking it under his pillow.

In the darkness, all he could hear was the sound of his own uneven breathing and the ticking of the clock.

Or maybe that was his heartbeat.

"James?"

James sniffed and shifted slightly. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispered.

"For what?"

Sirius shrugged, though of course James wouldn't be able to see that with his back to him. He sighed. "It's happening again. Having a baby in the middle of a war. It's just like before."

"It isn't like that at all," James turned over suddenly to face him. All Sirius could see of him was the outline of his face and his eyes glinting in the pale light coming through the gap between the curtains. "We were children then. Stupid, stupid children. We thought Remus was the traitor, for Merlin's sake! I married Lily... you didn't stop me..."

"Stop you?"

"I thought you would. Right up to the night of the wedding, I thought you would come riding in on your motorbike and we'd make a spectacular getaway." James laughed, but somehow it ended in a heavy sigh. "You were the rebel, Sirius. I was the spoiled fool who was blinded by my parents' wishes... and their gold. I can admit it now. But I would have made a go of it, with you, even if we'd ended up living on beans and stale dog biscuits in some shack."

Sirius shook his head, at a loss.

James sighed again. "But you didn't, and I didn't have the gumption to do it on my own. She was a great girl. I felt lucky."

"You loved her," Sirius said uncertainly. "I know you did."

"Yes," James said simply.

Sirius slumped back against his pillow and stared up at the ceiling he couldn't make out in the dark. "Then it is the same. You and Lily had Harry, and it was a terrible time, and now we're repeating that mistake."

James reached for Sirius' hand, pulling it until it rested palm down over his abdomen. "Is this the mistake you're talking about?"

Sirius swallowed convulsively.

"All I know is, babies have been born in every moment of history, whether times were easy or dark. We can't be naive, Sirius. Before Voldemort was Grindelwald, and before that there must have been another villain setting the world on fire, just like there will be one after Voldemort is dust on the wind. Life endures. That's the truth we must carry in our hearts."

"Since when are you such a philosopher?" Sirius asked, smiling weakly despite himself.

"Since you turned into such a pessimist. One does what one must."

Sirius frowned.

Was he a pessimist?

No, he was just facing reality. They were in the middle of a war. They already had one child who was constantly in mortal peril, and wasn't that enough for any family? Hadn't he thought so often that he wouldn't want to be Molly and Arthur, with seven children to agonize about?

A fingertip ghosted across his cheek. "What are you thinking?"

Sirius didn't know how to answer him. There were times when words failed him. James and Remus were the eloquent ones. He would only muddle up any attempt at voicing what was tearing him up inside.

The bedsprings creaked as James propped himself up on one elbow. "If we stop our lives, we will let him win, Sirius. What's happened to you? This change. I remember you told me, just after we... got our second chance... that you weren't going to let life pass you by again. Seize the day -- I remember you threw open the window the very first day you could get out of bed, and yelled it for all the world to hear."

"And scarred any number of children for life in the process," Sirius muttered, recalling the wide-eyed stares of the students gathered in the courtyard beneath the hospital wing windows, and the scattering of pigeons and owls from their rooftop roosts.

James laughed softly. "I suppose you did. But it was such a typical thing to do. I want that Sirius back. The one who would seize the day -- and to hell with Voldemort or anyone else who would try to wrest away his happiness from him."

Sirius felt something in his chest tighten painfully.

He wasn't the person James spoke of. He couldn't recapture the joy of simply being alive again. That had been a fleeting moment. Reality was not that simple. It never let him forget how easily it could all be lost. James' death. Azkaban. The Veil in the Department of Mysteries. How could he forget?

"Is this happiness?"

James cocked his head to one side, studying him. "What do you think?"

"I... don't know."

"Honest, at least," James said. He sighed and lowered his head to Sirius' shoulder. "This is happiness, to me."

Sirius wrapped his arms around James' back, hugging him closer to himself. He didn't know what to say.

James went on, as if not expecting him to say anything at all. "I should be dead, but here I am. Getting a second chance. More than that, really. A second chance at life. A second chance at being Harry's dad. A second chance with you. That's a lot of second chances, Sirius. How much does one man deserve?"

Sirius didn't have an answer to that, either. He, certainly, couldn't have deserved all the second chances he had been given.

"We must make our own happiness now, Sirius. It won't come down from the clear blue sky and land at our feet. We've been given more than our fair lot. The rest will be what we make of it." He turned to look into Sirius' face, his eyes filled with sudden urgency. "We must _live_, Sirius! Whatever else, we must live, because we both know how fleeting life is. Lets not waste another day! Whatever comes into our lives will come whether we stand tall or cower in fear. I want to taste life and never regret a single moment I'm granted on this earth."

And what did one say to that?

The paralyzing fear that had coiled inside Sirius sprang apart like the spring of a wind-up toy wound too tightly. Fear for Harry. Fear for James. Fear for the world and its fate that rested on the shoulders of one young boy. Fear for his friends and for himself and for the lives that could be lost because of a mistake he made --

"Sirius? Sirius -- what is it?"

Sirius opened his eyes, realizing only then that he had shut them tightly as his world spun wildly out of control. The room lurched to a sickening halt, and his eyes focused on James' concerned face.

"There," James said, laughing nervously, "now one of my famous rousing speeches has caused someone to faint. I recall better results from our Quidditch days. I must be losing my touch."

A barking laugh burst out of Sirius' throat. He was still laughing as he wrapped his hands around James' head and pulled him down for a hungry, feverish kiss.

"I love you, James Potter," he panted breathlessly, finally letting him go. "I don't care what comes after this, but I am never -- ever -- going to let you go!"

James blinked confusedly, as if not quite sure what to make of him.

Eventually, Sirius managed to bring himself under control. He cupped James' face and kissed him softly on the forehead.

"What was that for?"

"For bringing me to my senses. I've been a miserable berk, haven't I? Wallowing in self-pity all this time, and I didn't even realize it." Sirius shook his head incredulously.

"We're all guilty of that at one point or another. It doesn't matter now."

"I've been a fool, James. I threw myself into my work. I wanted to find answers. I wanted to know why I was here." Sirius sniffed scornfully at this own stupidity. "What does any of that matter? Show me a man who knows what he's here for."

James stroked his hair soothingly. "Your research can wait. If you're right, the Veil is not a threat to any of us."

"I know I'm right. And I will find those answers -- just not at the expense of my own sanity."

"Good." James smiled, his eyes lighting up. "It was getting rather tiring, having you crawl in at all ungodly hours and sticking your cold feet next to my warm ones. Cut back your hours." He smiled again, running his finger enticingly over Sirius' lips. "I'll make it worth your while."

Sirius caught the tip of James' finger between his teeth and growled.

James laughed. "Gods, I've missed this."

"All because I couldn't see past the end of my own nose."

"Silly bugger," James whispered, burying his face in Sirius' hair.

Sirius turned into the kiss James planted on the side of his neck, pulling James even closer to him.

How had he missed it?

He had everything he needed right here. The Veil -- sod it -- could keep its secrets until the end of days. The world didn't need his permission to fall apart, and if he knew what was good for him he would make peace with the fact that one man couldn't keep it together, either.

Sirius closed his eyes in contentment, basking in the warmth of James' body pressed so close to him.

He thought he could stay like that for an eternity. If morning never came, he would still be the happiest man on earth. No doubt about that. He had James, and Harry, and a baby on the way --

Just as suddenly as it came, the euphoria abandoned him in a surge of returning reality. His eyes popped open.

"James."

"Hmm?"

"Just tell me one thing."

"What?"

"Which one of us is going to tell Harry?"


End file.
